


Chemical Defects

by yourdykeinshiningarmor



Series: Sherlock Rare Pair Bingo Prompts [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Chemical, F/M, First Kiss, Rare Pair Prompt, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 02:35:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4122742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourdykeinshiningarmor/pseuds/yourdykeinshiningarmor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft, it seems, had developed a certain… chemical defect… in regards to Anthea. He found that Anthea was popping up in his thoughts far more often of late and in a manner most definitely <i>not</i> associated with work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chemical Defects

**Author's Note:**

> My fill for the Rare Pair Sherlock Bingo prompt of 'chemical'.

Mycroft let his face fall into his palms, elbows propped up on the desk. The... complications… from the Korean elections shouldn’t have been this difficult to resolve but for some reason it had taken him three days of tedious negotiations (on Korean time nonetheless, the buggers hadn't even offered to compromise on time) to clear everything up. Now, sitting exhausted in his office, he had time to reflect on why that was… or rather, whom.

He didn't want to acknowledge it, but a good part of his frustrations (besides the Koreans just being obstinate) was himself. There were times he wished he was more plebian so he could simply ignore what was obvious, but he could never do that and not with something of this magnitude.

Mycroft, it seems, had developed a certain… chemical defect… in regards to Anthea. One, he was fairly certain, she returned if his deductions proved true. While he normally didn't indulge in his more carnal needs (except in the most expedient manner), he found that Anthea was popping up in his thoughts far more often of late and in a manner most definitely  _ not _ associated with work.

A soft knock on his door roused him from his thoughts.

“Anything you need before I leave, sir?” Anthea asked him from the doorway.

Mycroft took a deep breath. She had been here almost as much as he had the last few days and it was clear she was tired, but she also couldn't let herself leave if there was still work to be done. 

“No, Anthea, you can go. As always, you have been invaluable to me.” He gave her a weak smile, one that spoke as much to his own weariness as to the truth behind the words. He truly would be lost without her.

She returned the smile and nodded her reply before returning to her desk to retrieve her things.

Mycroft stared blankly out the open door as a (likely poor) idea took shape in his mind.

Arms now loaded with her personal effects, Anthea popped her head back in, “Night, sir. Don’t stay too late.” She gave him another smile.

Mycroft took a brief look around his desk. There wasn't anything further he could accomplish tonight. “Actually, if you don't mind waiting a second, I’ll walk out with you.” He only took a moment to lock up a few sensitive files and stow his laptop. He put on his coat, mobile and keys already in his pocket, and made for the door. 

Anthea was standing next to her desk, fingers flying over her the keyboard of her Blackberry.  _ God, what else could those fingers accomplish! _ Mycroft mentally chastised himself.

“Shall we?” he asked and they started walking towards the lift. On the way down, Mycroft fiddled with the coins in his pocket (a nervous habit from when he was a child) as he debated his approach.

They were nearly to the car before Mycroft finally found his nerve. “Would you care to go for a drink?” he asked a bit more hasty than he had intended.

Anthea stopped and looked at him a bit puzzled, not really sure how to respond.

The longer Anthea was silent, the more nervous Mycroft got.

“I, of course, completely understand if you are not interested...”

(“Sir...”)

“and it is late so you certainly want to go home…”

(“Sir…”)

“you have put in quite a lot of hours this week..”

(“Sir!”)

“and perhaps I am being just a bit too forward—”

“MYCROFT!”

Mycroft finally stopped his rambling justifications and  _ looked _ at Anthea.

“I would love to.” Anthea smiled at him. “Although, it’s getting late and,” she glanced briefly down at her decidedly business attire, “I’m not exactly dressed for anything besides a business luncheon.”

Without a thought Mycroft replied, “we can always go back to mine if you want.” As soon as the words left his lips, he regretted them. He closed his eyes and again mentally chastised himself for being so utterly  _ stupid _ ! Anthea’s giggles brought him back.

“I know what you mean, sir. Your place would be fine.” Her smile remained soft and open.

Mycroft stared at her a moment, seeing the truth of her words in her body language.

“Alright then.” He started towards the cars. “And tonight is fine? We can always schedule to a more convenient time if you wish to go home for the night.”

This time Anthea gave Mycroft a bit more lascivious grin. “Tonight is fine.” 

Mycroft felt a stirring in his abdomen that he couldn't quite describe. He swallowed and was glad he had her back to him as she strode over to the car that usually took her home.

“Thank you, Steven, but I won’t be needing you tonight. Mr. Holmes and I have additional business to attend to. Sorry to have kept you here waiting.”

“It’s not a problem, ma’am. Have a good night,” the driver said. He gave her a nod before pulling away.

Anthea turned and strolled over to Mycroft’s car. “Ready, sir?” she asked, even as she gave him a quick wink.

Mycroft swallowed again as she disappeared into the back seat. Well at least he didn't have to worry about her not appreciating any advances from him. 

The short trip back to his flat was spent in silence, Mycroft staring out the window and Anthea busy on her phone. The quiet did nothing to calm his agitated nerves and seeing Anthea appear completely unaffected wasn't helping either. It wasn't until they were safely ensconced within the kitchen that Anthea finally broke the silence.

“Can I ask you a blunt question, sir?”

Mycroft paused where he was stooped in front of his wine fridge and stared resolutely at the label of the bottle of cabernet he was considering. “By all means.” He ignored the slight tremor in the hand holding the bottle.

“Is this to be a one night or semi-occasional event? Or do you have interest in pursuing this further?”

Mycroft let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He wasn't really surprised that Anthea saw to the heart of the matter or that she decided to ask The Question right up front.

“I only ask, sir, so as to understand what is expected of me.”

Mycroft frowned; there was something in the tone of her voice that he couldn't quite isolate but set him on edge. He stood up and turned to face her, distractedly placing the bottle on the counter. Anthea was a smart woman and it irked him to think that, possibly, she thought she must bend to his will in these matters; it angered him further to think that this may have happened to her in the past before she was hired by Mycroft all those years ago.

“You are not required to anything that you don't wish to, Anthea.” His tone wasn’t harsh but firm enough to convey the truth in his words. “I am happy with whatever you wish to pursue.” 

She nodded but didn't look up.

He took a step closer to her. “You are a dear friend to me and irreplaceable as my assistant; I wish to do nothing to jeopardize that. However, if you want to know what my preferences would be,” he licked his lips, “I would not be… opposed to ‘pursuing this further’ regardless of what tonight may bring.”

Anthea nodded again as both their gazes dropped to their shoes. 

Mycroft began to wonder how two people who, some days, literally made decisions that affected the fate of the entire planet, couldn’t even look at each other or decide which move to make.  _ This _ world it seems was far too precious to each of them to make such decisions quickly. He couldn't help the chuckle that passed his lips.

Anthea quirked her head at him. “Sir?” she asked, not angry but very curious. The laughter was slow to die but she waited. 

“I’m sorry,” Mycroft finally managed. “I was just thinking how two very powerful people can’t seen to make this one decision.” He looked at her finally, a smile still on his face.

A tiny huff of laughter passed her own lips. Anthea shook her head as she looked back down at her feet, thinking the statement over. When she looked back up at Mycroft through her lashes, she could scarcely believe it was him. He had the tiniest laugh lines around his eyes and his face was so much softer now than she had ever seen it, even when he was truly happy about something at work. This was something only she, and maybe a handful of others in Mycroft’s life, got to see, something that was a privilege. She could get used to seeing that face. 

Now it was Mycroft’s turn to cock his head to the side in question. Even with his aptitude at deduction, he couldn't quite determine what was happening inside her head.

Anthea’s smile grew and so did her courage. She took a deep breath before leaning forward, closing the small distance between them and planting her lips on his. Her movements caught Mycroft by surprise, but soon he melted into the kiss. It was short, Anthea pulling back before it got too heated, but it had broken the stalemate.

“Might I make a suggestion, sir?”

Mycroft nodded.

“Why don't we just...” Anthea took a step forward and closed the gap between them again, pushing their bodies gently together. “Just see where this goes.” 

Mycroft felt her fingers brush against the skin of his wrist. “Might I also make a suggestion?”

Anthea nodded this time.

“Call me Mycroft,” he whispered as he leaned down, claiming her lips for another kiss. As the kiss deepened, tongues beginning to swirl around each other, Mycroft felt an all too familiar stirring in his abdomen but felt no need to act on it yet; there would be plenty of time for that later.  _ Perhaps, _ he thought as he glided a hand up Anthea’s arm to cup at the base of her neck,  _ this is a chemical defect I can get used to having. _

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, comments, and constructive criticism always appreciated here or on my [Tumblr](http://yourdykeinshiningarmor.tumblr.com/).


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